On The Corner
by manyissues101
Summary: It was the simplicity of her kiss that drew Maureen to her. Its what made her beautiful, the way that nothing mattered. -Mojo-


It was the simplicity of her kiss that drew Maureen to her. The simple, innocent way that she looked at you. It was so straightforward, so stable. Maureen needed stable. She didn't need a Jewish camera boy who couldn't let himself feel, she needed someone who loved her enough to reprimand her, to keep her in check.

She met Joanne on the street. The young lawyer was passing around the corner where Maureen stood, handing out flyers to her upcoming protest—even though she hadn't finished planning. The woman hurriedly walked around the corner only to bump straight into Maureen's front. Their bodies pressed together, as did their lips, but only for the briefest second. Joanne stumbled over an apology while Maureen bent over to pick up her dropped flyers, oh so tauntingly. She pressed one in Joanne's hand with a, "I can't wait to see you there."

Joanne just continued walking across the crosswalk, the slightest red glaze to her cheeks as she continued for work. Maureen smirked. This was going to be fun. Its not like she had that with Mark—that dangerous vibe full of exhilarating adventure. So the next day she waited on the same street corner, hoping to see Joanne. Her wish came true, and this time they had some time to spend together before she could walk.

"Hi, I'm Maureen Johnson." The girl unabashedly stuck out a hand. Joanne, a little more timid, shook it slowly.

"Joanne Jefferson."

Maureen gave her most brilliant smile. "Nice to meet you."

0---0

Its what made her beautiful, the way that nothing mattered. The way that Maureen sailed through life without a care in the world. It was like she didn't exist on the universe's plane, but on her own. There was something so bright, so complex about everything that she did. That's the only reason that Joanne had talked to her in the first place. She was tired of life being so predicable, so mundane. She wanted a thrill, wanted something to make her feel alive.

She met Maureen as she walked to work. It was the same walk every day with a briefcase in her hand. She had to be careful—a woman with a briefcase was a prime mugging target. So she made sure to stay where there were lots of people, and walked fast. She had turned the usual corner a little too fast that day, and ran smack into a woman handing out flyers, which scattered. It wasn't enough that they had to run into each other, but did their lips have to too? Joanne pulled away after the briefest second, not sure what to say to Maureen. She couldn't seem to form apologetic words, especially as the woman been over mockingly. Joanne's heart skipped a beat.

A blush spread across her cheeks as the woman held one out for Joanne's hand. "I can't wait to see you there," she smiled. Joanne couldn't see straight—Maureen was too dazzling. So she left without saying anything, making a quick dash across the street before traffic caught up again. Her lips tingled and she fought the urge to close her eyes. She couldn't let this wonderful female distract her from the danger of walking on a New York street. But she couldn't wait for the day to be over and morning to come again, so that maybe, just maybe, she could catch a glimpse of her mystery crush once again. And when she walked to work the next morning, she had to stop to compose herself and slow down her heart.

She gulped as the light turned red. Her girl was standing there, watching her. Joanne slowly walked up, and before she could say anything, Maureen was making an advance.

"Hi, I'm Maureen Johnson." Maureen extended a friendly hand without a second thought. Joanne was worried about dropping over on the spot, and reached out a little slower.

"Joanne Jefferson." It was a struggle for her lips to form her own name.

The smile she received was bright and radiant—Joanne wanted to see over and over again. "Nice to meet you."

0FIN0

My second Mojo. I don't think it's as good as the first, but its not like it matters much.

RENT is property of the late Mr. Larson, may he rest in peace.

Reviews are love.


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